


Hot Ones: Hawkeye and Ant-Man Test Their Skills While Eating Hot Wings

by Jenniboo311



Series: Hot Ones: Avengers in the Hot Seat [3]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: First We Feast, Gen, Humor, Interview, Mild Profanity, Secret Identity, Video, YouTube, hot ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenniboo311/pseuds/Jenniboo311
Summary: "Hi everyone, from First We Feast this is Sean Evans and you're watching Hot Ones: the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. You may recognize our next guests from their various exploits saving the world with the Avengers. One never misses a shot with his bow and arrow and the other...can shrink really small. It is a great honor to welcome to the show, Hawkeye, Mr. Clint Barton, and Ant-Man, Mr. Scott Lang."
Relationships: Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Scott Lang, Scott Lang & Peter Parker
Series: Hot Ones: Avengers in the Hot Seat [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1349527
Comments: 56
Kudos: 297





	Hot Ones: Hawkeye and Ant-Man Test Their Skills While Eating Hot Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeamIronDad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamIronDad/gifts).



> Wow, it has been a hot minute since I last posted in this series. This fic totally kicked my ass with writer's block, so I hope you enjoy it even just a little. I tried, okay?!
> 
> While Peter's age is never specified, I consider him aged up to probably his early twenties, and is a mix of MCU-Spidey and PS4-Spidey. Endgame and Far From Home didn't happen, and Civil War magically ended with everyone as friends again.
> 
> \------------
> 
> Lokissoulmate666: I can’t wait to read Hawkeye in the hot seat!!!! Could you have Hawkeye go on a rant about him being deaf and ableism being awful? I love your work!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩
> 
> TeamIronDad: Please do Clint next. I think he'd be hilarious lol
> 
> Rachel: Definitely ask Clint about the pranks he does with Spidey, the IG segment could have him taking photos from a distance or doing trick shots with his arrows, he can speak about knowing ASL/his deafness, etc.

The video begins focused on a man in his early thirties looking into the camera, hair buzzed short and wearing a flashy gold wristwatch and a comfortable hoodie, the sleeves bunched up and the colour of burnt sienna. He is sitting at a small table with ten bottles of hot sauce lined up down the center from hot to hottest, a platter of ten chicken wings set in front of him, with the whole set back-dropped in black. The man smiles and begins his introduction.

"Hi everyone, from First We Feast this is Sean Evans and you're watching Hot Ones: the show with hot questions and even hotter wings."

The camera angle changes but maintains the closeup.

"You may recognize our next guests from their various exploits saving the world with the Avengers. One never misses a shot with his bow and arrow and the other...can shrink really small. It is a great honor to welcome to the show, Hawkeye, Mr. Clint Barton, and Ant-Man, Mr. Scott Lang."

The camera cuts to show Clint sitting across from Sean, his hair fashionably spiked and wearing a black t-shirt with a buttery dark brown leather jacket and dark blue jeans. Scott sits next to him, grinning widely, wearing worn black jeans and a simple tan t-shirt.

"Though let me also say," Scott interjects boldly before Sean can say another word, tone smarmy and highly suggestive, "I can also grow really big."

Scott smirks at Sean while Clint groans next to him, and Sean almost unwillingly returns the grin after he takes a moment to process the cringey quip.

Sean raises his hands in a gesture of peace and quips back, "Hey man, I'm not trying to minimize your attributes! I'm sure you're a man of many qualities and talents."

"Seriously, Scott?" Clint sighs and levels a look at him while trying to keep a straight face.

Scott shakes his head and in as serious a tone as he can manage, says, "Hey, I'm just trying to set the record straight okay? I can shrink really small _and_ grow really big, it's an important skill set on my resume! I've gotta highlight my strengths or I'll get overlooked."

"This is an in interview show on the internet, not a job interview you putz."

Scott loses the battle with his poker face and his amusement shows through but simply shrugs exaggeratedly, deciding to let it go. As one they turn to politely regard Sean.

"Right! Well then," Sean hesitantly begins, "Welcome to the show fellas. I'm so happy to have you both here, and I can't help but notice you're not the least bit surprised you're attending an interview. You're aware of what's going on?"

Clint immediately scoffs, "Of course I am. Uh, assassin slash spy, hello?"

Sean laughs and concedes the point, "That's very true! So how did you find out?"

"I knew Webhead had done the show a little while ago, and heard he roped Cap into doing it too, which we all thought was pretty hilarious to be honest, and then recently I noticed he kept giving me these shady side-eyed looks so I stole his phone when he was in the shower and read all his text messages. Somebody needs a more elaborate pin, Mr. one-two-three-four."

The camera cuts to Spider-Man standing off screen in his mask with a white hoodie and dark blue jeans, who hangs his head in exasperation.

"You don't know this," Clint continues, "But without the mask his face is a completely open book. He makes it so easy. He can't keep a secret to save his life, I can't believe he has maintained a secret identity for so long to be honest, it's astonishing."

Clint looks off screen to address Spider-Man, "I should probably emphasize that I read all your texts. Including the ones with your scary lady friend. What has been seen cannot be unseen, I honestly can't look at you the same anymore. You nasty."

The camera cuts to Spider-Man once again who mimes strangling Clint and growls menacingly.

Sean chuckles and turns to Scott, "And how about you? I guess Clint probably told you what's going on?"

Scott grins exuberantly and confidently states, "I have no idea what's going on."

Sean looks understandably confused. "You seem to be taking things well, then."

Scott's grin impossibly brightens even further and he gives an overenthusiastic shrug and says, as though admitting a large secret, "I like to think one of my strengths is adapting quickly to unpredictable situations. Take, for instance, my recent experience with the confrontation in Germany where I was able to-"

"Still not a job interview, you dope," Clint interrupts, rolling his eyes.

The video cuts to Scott and Sean fearlessly taking a bite from the first wing. They chew suspiciously before meeting each other's eyes and shrugging, deeming it not so bad.

"So we know a little bit about your backgrounds, flying relatively solo for quite a while. Clint, you have been working with SHIELD as a field agent. Scott, you've recently done some time in prison for grand theft and even more recently you've been working with Hank Pym and his daughter Hope van Dyne, better known as The Wasp. What has it been like for you guys to become part of such a large team? Has it been difficult adjusting to the team dynamic and learning to play well with others? And most especially, what has it been like going from being essentially a nobody to being a part of such a high profile group and becoming some of the most famous people in the world?"

The Avengers regard each other before Scott pipes up, enthusiastically, "Well I think it's great!"

"Yeah?" Sean leads, hoping he will expand on his answer.

"Yeah," Scott nods and explains, "The last group I hung out with were in cell block B. But we had to stop hanging out because Javier shanked Marshall for stealing his pillow and they both ended up in solitary. I actually never saw them again, it was very sad." Scott looks down at the hands clasped in his lap, the very picture of sorrow.

Sean blinks, absolutely thrown, "Excuse me, his pillow? Why would he shank someone for a pillow? For that matter, why would someone steal a pillow? This was from your time in prison, I take it? I have so many questions."

Scott nods sagely, "Marshall was suspicious the guys from cell block A were doing things to his pillow. I think they were jealous of his bankable skills."

"Uh," Sean stammers, unsure where to go with that piece of information as Clint quietly facepalms across the table.

"We were making picnic tables earlier that week for the local parks, "Scott expounds, "And Warden Davis kept complimenting Marsh on his sharp angles. Those angles were tight!" He smiles proudly.

"I see," Sean drawls with an uneasy smile, "What things were they doing to his pillow exactly? I'm invested in this story now, I feel like I have to know."

"You don't want to know," Scott immediately fires back, shaking his head, lips pursed.

"Ooookay," Sean responds, followed by a slow blink at the camera.

"Alright, moving on. How about you, Clint?"

Clint finally emerges from the shelter of his hand and answers, "Well, I would say being famous has certainly made the spy part of my profession rather difficult these days. My face isn't as well known as, say, Stark, but it's definitely well known."

Sean laughs and nods his agreement while Scott watches on with polite interest.

Clint continues, "It was certainly less complicated, being unknown. I can't even go out for coffee now without getting screamed at, but I wouldn't give it up for the world. Some of the fans I've met have been really cool. And I wouldn't give up knowing that crazy band of yahoos for anything. They're family now, you know? It's worth it, to be an Avenger. To help people and keep my family safe."

Clint nods and shrugs, indicating he doesn't know what else to add.

Sean picks up his second wing, prompting the Avengers to proceed with their own. After a fearless bite and a short round of chewing and swallowing, the host continues with the interview.

"Speaking of family," Sean gestures at Clint, using his last answer to segue into his next question. "One of the more interesting things to come out about you recently was the public revelation that you had a secret family, Clint. And you, Scott, have a daughter, but I don't think that was a secret."

Scott shakes his head in agreement.

"What do your kids think about you being superheroes? Is it hard being away from them? Do your families find it difficult to worry about you in such a dangerous field of work?"

"Clearly my daughter, Cassie, thinks I'm the coolest Avenger. And she would be correct, I am absolutely the coolest Avenger," Scott boasts.

Clint makes a noise of disagreement and punches him lightly on the shoulder. "Is that right?"

Scott grins and amends, "Well, she says I'm the world's best grandma, and really isn't that the same thing?"

Clint and Sean laugh.

Scott waves his hand, becoming serious for a moment, "Yeah, no, I'm not called in very often on Avenger business, so I'm mostly home with my daughter. She doesn't really get a chance to miss me. As for worrying about me, I'm not sure she's quite old enough to be worried yet when I'm out doing hero work. She's still at that age where her dad is invincible, I think."

Sean nods in understanding and gestures at Clint for his answer.

"Yeah, same," Clint reaches for a napkin to wipe his tingling mouth, "Lila and Nate, for sure are too young to understand or really worry. Cooper is a bit older so he frets a bit when I'm gone. Laura though, my wife, she worries obviously. Unfortunately she knew what she signed on for when she married me though, so she's used to it to a certain degree. She's very supportive and understanding. Very strong. I couldn't have asked for a better wife." He winks at the camera.

Sean grins, "Looking for brownie points from the wife, I can respect that. Providing she watches the show, of course."

"Of course she will," he scoffs, "She never misses an opportunity to watch me make a fool of myself."

They all laugh and move on to wing number three. Clint's eyebrows raise halfway up his forehead as he regards the wing he just sampled and carefully places the rest back on the board while clearing his throat uncomfortably. Scott throws the rest of his wing in the garbage on the floor behind the table and reaches for his glass of water, looking slightly strained.

"So," Sean continues, "I heard from a little spider in a previous interview that you're involved in a bit of a prank war with the other Avengers. Do you have any stories about a memorable prank you've done on a fellow Avenger, or maybe one they've done to you?"

"I'm not really at the compound much," Scott defers to Clint and watches as Clint smirks and hums thoughtfully.

"Let's see," he muses as he props a thumb under his chin and rests the tip of his index finger against his pursed lips. After a moment his eyes drift across the vigilante standing on the sidelines off camera and he smirks.

"The Web-Man is actually notorious for being hard to prank. He's got that freaky tingle thing going on that warns him of danger-"

"Please stop calling it my tingle-" Spider-Man mutters with a great deal of exasperation.

"-So when someone actually gets him it's a bit of a big deal."

Sean nods hesitantly, "His uh, his tingle?"

"Yep! His danger tingle!" Clint exchanges a shit-eating grin with Sean as Spider-Man scoffs angrily from the sidelines.

"Stop calling it my tingle! For the love of-"

"When something shady is going on he gets this spike of glorified anxiety in the back of his neck. Kinda like a fly getting caught and tugging on the strands of a spider web, I guess!"

Spider-Man sighs, exasperated, "Yes, thank you, Clint. I hadn't planned on getting into the details of my abilities with the general public."

Clint grimaces comically, "Oops! Sorry bro, my bad."

Scott gives the camera a discreet wide eyed look, feeling awkward about Clint's faux pas.

Sean eyes his crew uneasily before turning to the vigilante, "We can cut that if you need us to."

Spidey sighs, "Nah, it's not that big of a deal. Just move on."

"Yes, we can do that," Sean confirms.

"So anyway, as I was saying, hurdle number one, it's difficult to prank the bug-"

"Spiders are arachnids actually-"

"-And he can tell if you're trying to sneak up on him or attack him or anything aggressive like that so it's gotta be subtle."

"Right," Sean says agreeably, starting to grin.

"I thought about it for awhile and decided I'd prank his suit instead of pranking him, and hopefully that wouldn't tip off his tingle."

"How would you get at his suit?" Scott asks, looking enthralled with the topic of conversation.

"Well that's hurdle number two," the archer says, pointing at Scott. "He's got most of his suits locked up in his lab, and that's secured with bio-metrics and a highly advanced artificial intelligence. That is not something you easily break into. Solution? Get yourself invited in."

Both men promptly throw him disbelieving looks.

"No, no, stay with me here. It can be done. I'll have to convince Tony to get in on it, not a difficult task, and get him to ask Spidey to help with upgrades for some Hawkeye tech. Then I wait for him to finish and invite me in for a demo. Hurdle three, what to do with the suit? Can't be something obvious, he will notice. Can't be something dangerous. Itching powder or something like that would be a distraction. Can't have him putting on the suit, getting distracted, and getting himself or someone else killed. It needs to be something he will notice after any potential situation is over. Maybe as he's taking off his suit, or after he has taken it off. Solution? Adhesive. He always jokes that he's sticky. Well, I'll show him sticky!"

Scott makes a face, "I feel like that joke didn't go quite where you wanted it to."

Sean snorts in agreement.

Scott looks straight into the camera and adopts his best movie trailer voice, "It's getting hot in here and it's not just the wings!"

"Gross," comes a muttered complaint from the vigilante off camera.

Clint giggles childishly and clears his throat to get back on track, "I stand by what I said. Hurdle four, what to use? Unfortunately my talents don't lie in the chemistry side of things, so the best I've got is maybe four bottles of Crazy Glue and I'm pretty sure both Webs and Stark would lynch me for ruining a multi-million dollar crime fighting suit by covering it in Crazy Glue for a prank. But you know who is an expert in chemicals? Spider-Man! And he happens to have already invented a nifty adhesive that dissolves after a short period of time. Fantastic! Next hurdle, where to apply it? I can't put it all over the inside of the suit. He'll feel it when trying to put on the suit. Gag ruined. Therefore I have to pick one discreet place to put it where it won't be noticed immediately. Bonus points if it goes somewhere with body hair."

All three men snicker as Sean asks, "You didn't?!"

Clint ignores him to continue, "Now the thing about our arachnid friend is that he actually doesn't have a lot of body hair. On his head, sure, but I will actually be killed if I put adhesive in his mask and he ends up bald. He has no hair on his back or chest-"

"That's not true," Scott interjects to which Clint looks back confused. "You forgot the three chest hairs he has."

"Oh right, the three chest hairs!"

"Yeah, you're hilarious," Spider-Man grumbles.

Sean laughs but Scott pipes up, "No seriously. He actually has exactly three chest hairs. We counted them. It's hilarious."

Sean laughs harder before placating the masked hero, "Well, you know, a lot of guys pay good money to wax or laser off all their body hair. I'm sure there's a lot of guys out there pretty jealous of you right now."

"Yeah," Scott coos at Spider-Man, "You're still totally manly, don't worry."

"Don't need validation from you clowns," he retaliates, and presumably flips them the finger off camera judging from their twin scandalized gasps and Sean slapping his leg in mirth.

"Wow, rude!" Clint says as if he wasn't the one who was just body shaming Spider-Man. "Anyway, where was I? Body hair, yes. So I only really have two options, right? Option one, the nards."

Sean's eyes boggle out of his head, "Are you kidding me right now?"

Clint waves a dismissive hand at him, "Oh, calm down. I ruled that one out almost immediately because if he would kill me for making him bald then I don't want to know what he'd do to me if he accidentally ripped off his balls or something."

Sean laughs loudly and winces with the thought as Scott quietly questions, " _Almost_ immediately?"

Clint shrugs before he admits, "Well I entertained the idea for awhile. To be honest, I mostly scrapped the idea when I realized I had no guarantee he wouldn't be wearing underwear."

"Ah, so it wasn't out of a sense of fear or the goodness of your heart," Sean clarifies.

"I mean, those too, but maybe like thirty percent fear, seventy percent can't guarantee success."

"I'll keep that in mind," Spider-Man mutters darkly, and the camera cuts to him just in time to see his eye lenses narrow at Clint menacingly.

"So is there a conclusion to this long-winded story or are we trapped here until we die?" Scott pipes up to break the tension.

"Yes, I'm getting there if you'd let me finish. I keep getting interrupted."

"You have my sincerest apologies," Sean placates, "Please continue."

"Thank you. So that just leaves his armpits. The suit is baggy until he hits a trigger to pull it tight, so he wouldn't notice a bit of adhesive in the armpits until he's trying to take it off and it pulls on the hair. Right? Solid. Next, how to get it on there without him noticing. Solution? Have him leave the room after he invites me in. This is a two-parter. First, I will need to bring someone trustworthy with me, because there's no way he'd leave me in the lab alone. So I will bring Cap since he's usually team lead and would logically want to keep up to date on our tech and abilities, and also because he's secretly a shit head and would easily consent to helping me prank Spidey."

Sean let's a surprised laugh escape while Scott nods knowingly.

"Is this a prank or a freaking mission? God, Clint," Spider-Man mutters to himself.

"And secondly I need someone to call him away for a few minutes. Tony can easily help with that. Next, we need him to suit up shortly after he comes back so that the adhesive has time to work its magic before it dissolves. Cue Tony again. Long story short, it totally worked. Tony got him working on some tech and Cap and I showed up to watch a demo. Part way through Tony had FRIDAY call him away for a quick consultation which he only briefly agonized over since Cap was there and surely Cap was trustworthy enough to keep me in line, right? Wrong. So then Tony overrode the locks remotely so we could get the suit out and applied the web solution under the arms. We popped it back into the case and I gave my best cotton-candy-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth impression. Webs returned, finished the demo, and then the alarm went off signaling an emergency. Spidey didn't hesitate to unlock the case and slip into the suit and we raced to the war room-"

"It's literally just a boardroom with enough chairs to fit all of us for meetings. It's not nearly as exciting as it sounds," Scott interrupts.

"-To meet the whole team, at which time FRIDAY called it off as a false alarm," Clint continues as though he wasn't interrupted. "Spidey looked confused because at this point everyone had been tipped off to what was going on and we were all staring at him suspiciously. It was as good a time as any, I figured, so I made a suspicious comment about his suit and he promptly tried to take it off only to yelp when it pulled on his armpits. It was glorious."

Sean laughs and shakes his head, "Have a lot of time on your hands, do you, Clint?"

Clint waves him off impatiently, "It gets even better though! I didn't tell him I used his own formula because then he'd know it would be dissolving soon. Wanted him to sweat about it for a bit first, you see? So I flashed a bottle of Crazy Glue at him that I had in my pocket as backup and he was both furious and panicked. He swore on me and said he had a date in like, an hour, and didn't have time to deal with this. So he squared up and ripped the suit down to his hips. Swear to God, I've never seen him turn so pale so quickly."

All three men laugh uproariously.

"Did he scream?" Sean chokes out. "I think I'd scream so bad."

"He did not!" Clint says, vastly amused. "He made a loud choking sound and then kinda gurgled in his throat a bit. It ripped out just about every bit of hair he had. The best part was, if he had just waited a while, it would have harmlessly dissolved on its own. I laughed 'til I cried. Pretty sure I remember Tony falling to his knees. It was amazing."

"It was not amazing! There was blood, Clint!"

This was evidently the wrong thing to say as this sets the archer off again until tears gather at the corners of his eyes and he gasps for breath.

"Oh don't be such a baby," He chokes out, "Plenty of people wax and they don't make such a big deal about it. You're Spider-Man, dude. You've literally been shot."

The camera cuts to Spider-Man as he growls and whips his phone out of his pants pocket. After a moment of furious typing, he recites from a web page he must have just Googled, "In general, hair length for waxing on any area of the body should be about a quarter inch before it's waxed-"

Clint, Scott, and Sean break into laughter once more and drown out Spidey's lecture and only manage to calm down long enough to hear him say, "-Causing more pain and irritation-" before they lose their minds once more.

After they eventually calm themselves, they take a bite of their next wing, Clint and Scott looking far more cautious than the last time. Their caution is immediately proven correct when Scott clears his throat and tugs on his collar and Clint outright starts coughing.

"Jesus," Clint swears in between coughs, "That's the hottest thing I've ever eaten!"

"And we're not even halfway," Scott points out, sounding incredibly strained.

"That's true," Sean agrees, "You're not quite halfway. But I believe in you guys. You save lives and stop alien invasions. A few chicken wings are no match for you. Just like when you're on the field, I know you have it in you to dig deep and push through and get it done somehow. Because if you can't, there's no hope for the rest of us. You got this!"

Scott regards Sean as he continues to clear his throat and blinks the beginnings of tears out of his eyes, "Yeah, I'd give that maybe a seven, seven point five out of ten spangly stars. He's not quite on Captain America's level of motivational speaking, but nice effort." Scott gives him a thumbs up.

Clint snorts and Sean looks slightly put out at first before conceding magnanimously, "I would never dream of trying to live up to such a legend. We can all only aspire to achieve a fraction of his skill."

They all share a grin and Sean proceeds with the interview, "So fellas, I can't imagine the amount of stress you regularly have to deal with. Split second decisions you make on the field could result in your own death, the death of your teammates who are relying on you, the death of nearby civilians, and even the deaths of the entire population of Earth in certain scenarios."

"No pressure," Clint snarks, taking a sip of water.

Sean huffs a laugh in agreement, "No pressure! I sometimes wonder at the types of difficult decisions you've had to decide between on the fly, and have decided to put you through my own gauntlet of difficult decisions. I will read out two questions and you have to make a decision between them. Make sense?"

Scott shrugs and Clint raises a wary eyebrow and narrows his eyes while sniffing with his freshly running nose.

"Okay, let's begin." A crew member approaches and hands him a sheet of paper, which he then consults. "Gentlemen, would you rather be in jail for a year or lose a year off your life?

Scott immediately perks up, "Ooh, I feel like I have an advantage in this one considering I've actually been in jail!"

"I'm not sure that's exactly a bragging point," Clint mutters.

Scott waves him off, "It wasn't all that bad. I'd choose jail, I think. Life is too short as it is, and especially with our line of work. Gotta get in all the livin' I can."

Clint hums in disagreement, "I think I'd go with a year off my life. I wouldn't want my kids visiting me in jail. It would be difficult to keep them away, I'm never away from them for too long. I mean I'm away a lot for work but I'm never gone for large periods of time before I head back home to check in. I was on house arrest awhile ago after the Avengers civil war but I was home so that was different."

Sean nods, "Alright, okay, that was a bit of a heavy start. Let me lay a lighter one on you. Would you rather only be able to use a fork and no spoon or only be able to use a spoon and no fork?

"Everything's a fork if you're brave enough!" Scott says earnestly.

Clint rolls his eyes and snorts as he mutters from the corner of his mouth, "That's not the saying."

"That's not the saying? What's the saying then?"

Clint clears his throat and says even quieter, "Everything's a _dildo_ if you're brave enough."

This surprises a laugh out of Sean and a choked snort filters in from Spider-Man's direction.

"Ah yes, you're right," Scott sagely agrees after giving it some thought. "I choose fork then, I guess."

Clint puts a hand to his forehead to try to grapple with his amusement, "Me too."

"Careful of your eyes, Clint," Sean immediately warns him.

The archer wrenches his hand from his face and looks at it, mildly spooked.

"Would you rather every shirt you ever wear be kind of itchy or only be able to use one ply toilet paper?" Sean continues.

Clint scoffs, "Anyone who picks the shirt has obviously never been on a stakeout and had to use way worse than one ply to wipe their ass."

Sean laughs and Scott agrees with Clint, "Though I've never been on a stakeout, I'd rather deal with one ply like once a day than an itchy shirt all day every day. No competition."

"Alright, would you rather have to read aloud every word you read or sing everything you say out loud?" Sean asks, his brows raised in intrigue.

"I don't read much," Scott confesses, "So probably reading aloud. You don't want to hear me sing. I'm doing everyone a favor."

"Yeah, no, I'd rather sing. I actually sing from time to time. I'm no Ricky Martin or anything, but I manage. And a lot of the things I read are confidential and shouldn't be spoken out loud. So yeah." Clint shrugs.

"Ricky Martin?" Scott huffs, giving Clint an amused side eye.

"You got somethin' against my boy, Ricky Martin?"

"And would you rather become twice as strong when both of your fingers are stuck in your ears or crawl twice as fast as you can run?" Sean pipes up to keep the ball rolling.

Both men pause in thought.

"I would have to say I would rather crawl fast because watching Spidey skittering around doing his Spidey crawl is hilarious and it freaks people out. I'm a jerk and wanna freak people out," Scott says unashamedly.

"Yeah, and plus what's the point of being twice as strong if you can't use your arms? I'd have to rely on my legs and I'd need close range for that. I'm more of a long range guy. I wouldn't be able to use my bow. No bueno," Clint agrees.

Sean grins at the camera, amused, "There you have it, folks. No hesitation. Absolutely fearless."

"Okay fellas, you're officially halfway. You're doing well. How are you feeling?"

Both Avengers take timid bites while awkwardly trying to avoid their lips.

Scott answers with a moan of discomfort.

"I feel like that gif Spidey texts me sometimes. You know the one where there's this cartoon dog in the middle of all this fire and he's just calmly sitting there saying, 'This is fine'?" Clint chokes and gulps down a third of his glass of ice water. "That's what I feel like right now. This is fine."

"Are you the dog or the fire, though?" Scott asks, mildly interested.

"A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B," the archer rasps out.

Sean finishes his wing like a pro and proceeds with his question.

"You know, I grew up reading comic books and watching cartoons about superheroes. Seeing them fly and perform impossible feats, to save the day when all hope is lost. As a huge fan of what you guys do and what you stand for, it's more than a little humbling to see that you guys just seem like regular people. When you meet a superhero, and I'm sure I can speak for most people, you expect them to be out of this world." Sean gestures grandly with his arms. "To be, I dunno, just _more_. You just feel like any other couple of guys out for some chicken wings!"

The Avengers laugh and shrug in agreement.

"We're nothin' special, bro," Clint says with a grin.

"And that," Sean says with a finger in the air, "Is why it's so unsettling. It makes you relatable. And if I can relate myself, an ordinary guy, to you, another ordinary guy, then I start to imagine what it would be like for myself to go up against aliens and giant robots and whatever else crazy nonsense you do, and that, my friends, is a terrifying thought."

"Aw, don't worry, man, we gotchu," Clint says with a fist bump at Sean, who looks absolutely thrilled to reciprocate. "How about we worry about the aliens and you keep torturing people with spicy poultry?"

Sean grins widely, "It's a deal, my friends. Signed and sealed." He offers a fist bump to Scott, who grins and bumps him back. "No takebacksies."

They laugh and Sean continues, "While you guys seem like average Joes at face value, you've got quite a lot to offer the team. While neither of you are enhanced like some of your teammates, you boast abilities like," he gestures a hand at Clint, "Being a superb marksman, soldier, and tactician, and," he gestures at Scott, "Being able to use highly advanced technology to shrink yourself to microscopic levels, grow to insane sizes, communicate with actual ants, and specialize in electronics and quantum physics."

"Hn," Scott hums, seemingly not paying attention. He picks up a bottle of hot sauce from the middle of the table and waggles it at Sean. "What would happen if someone snorted this?"

"Uh," Sean stammers, caught off guard. Both men shoot Scott an incredulous look, as though Sean must have been horribly mistaken about Scott being intelligent enough to be an expert in anything, much less quantum physics. "I-I don't know. Nobody has ever, uh, done that here before." _Nobody has been stupid enough to do that_ , floats unsaid in the silence. "I can't imagine anything good would come of it and I'm not sure we have adequate insurance for that," he concludes, discouragingly. He shares an uncomfortable look with Clint while Scott nods distractedly and eventually puts down the bottle, and Sean lets out a sigh of relief before getting to his final point. He clears his throat to regain Scott's attention.

"Having said all that, I've gotta ask, do you ever use your skills for things that have nothing to do with Avengers business?"

Clint and Scott give Sean twin sly smiles.

"Who, us?" Scott questions innocently.

"Yeah, I'm not sure who you're fooling with that act," Sean retorts good-naturedly.

Scott sniffs, "As it just so happens, I occasionally use my amazing skills outside of hero work."

"Do tell, if you please," the host goads.

"Well," he begins, shifting in his chair to get more comfortable, "My daughter is getting to that age where she's getting a bit of attitude, you know? Doesn't want to listen or be told that she's wrong."

"Dunno where she'd get that from," Spider-Man mutters, almost too low to be heard. Scott throws him a half-hearted glare while fighting down a smirk as Sean and Clint snicker.

"So _anyway_ ," he presses on, pointedly raising his voice, "She has started doing this thing where she storms into her room, slams the door, and locks it. So one day I get fed up and I ask her to open the door, she says no, and I go, ' _no, not in my house. M-mm.'"_ Scott shakes his head and wags his finger as though he has been possessed by a sassy, middle-aged mom. "So I give her one more warning to open this door right this second or I'm coming in anyway and she will regret it. Predictably, she says no. I say okay and go get my suit. Probably a bit overkill, but I shrink down, march myself under the gap, and return to normal and unlock the door."

They laugh and Sean questions, "And then what happened?"

"She was totally unimpressed and said she'd just lock it again when I left because I couldn't stay in her room forever," he says before taking a sip of water and nonchalantly adding, "So I shrugged and took her door. I win."

"Wow," Clint deadpans, "You're so badass."

Sean grins, "Hard to lock the door when it's not there."

"Exactly! Ugh, have children, they said. It'll be great, they said. No, I'm joking, my daughter is great and I wouldn't give her up for anything. I love being a dad. Sometimes though, man, that shit's hard. Daughters, amiright?" He addresses the last to Clint.

"Totally," Clint nods emphatically.

Sean grins at them both and gestures to Clint, "What about you, Clint?"

"Yeah, totally. I mean, a lot of the skills I use as an Avenger make up a lot of who I am and I use them without thinking about it, really. It's second nature, I think. I use my tactical skills in our prank wars. And when I'm stealing Spidey's leftover pizza outta the fridge I make good use of my stealth."

Sean snorts and Spider-Man huffs, "I _knew_ that was you!"

"Moving on to wing number six," Sean announces, leading the Avengers in taking a bite.

Clint whimpers and stomps his feet while frantically chewing and Scott attempts to swallow the bite without chewing. Neither strategy appears to work as both men reach for their glasses of water moments later.

"So, fellas. You both have high stakes jobs. Statistically speaking, not every day can go right. And I would imagine when you have a bad day, it goes really wrong. When you're having a bad day, what do you do to make yourself feel better? Do you have a method at all? Or do you just power through it or hide and wait for morning?"

"I think this friggin' hot sauce is putting a damper on my day, I tell you what," Clint rants while hanging his head back to stare mournfully at the ceiling.

"Yeah, the day has definitely taken a turn for the worse," Scott agrees.

"Just wait until it comes back out again," Spider-Man murmurs, "Your adventure has only just begun."

"Wait, what?!" Clint exclaims, snapping his head upright to stare at Spider-Man so fast he could have given himself whiplash. "You're telling me there's gonna be fiery shits, too?"

Spider-Man hums the opening notes to Johnny Cash's, _Ring of Fire_ , and interrupts himself with a gleeful cackle.

Clint and Scott regard him with horror and turn stony gazes upon the host.

"This wasn't part of the deal, dude. Why you gotta bring my asshole into it? Isn't this enough torture?" Scott moans.

Clint crashes his fist down onto the table in despair causing a dent to buckle the surface.

Scott throws him a wide-eyed look.

"What was the question again?" Clint asks desperately, tugging on his shirt collar.

"How do you make yourself feel better when you're having a bad day?" Sean repeats, eyeing Clint cautiously.

Clint wails in aggravation and pulls on his hair.

"I spend time with my daughter," Scott presses on, deeming Clint a lost cause.

"Oh yeah?" Sean prompts, "That's sweet."

"Yeah, a hug from Cassie can make anything better."

"Sean turns to Clint for his answer but is interrupted by Scott continuing to answer, "That or binging a dozen beer until my eyeballs float."

Sean blinks and replies diplomatically, "Solid strategy. Clint?"

"Uh," he groans, "Other than spending time with my family, I spend time with my dog, Lucky. He's a scrappy little rascal but he's the best, you know? He's not the prettiest but he'll never betray you and he'll love you unconditionally. That, or I play darts."

Sean nods, "Slobbery kisses or stabbing things. Sounds relaxing."

Sean fearlessly demolishes his seventh wing while the Avengers hesitate and take the smallest possible bite without it touching their lips.

"Mother of God," Clint gasps while Scott's eyes bug out and he starts to chug a glass of water.

"We've reached the point in our show where we have a recurring segment, 'Explain that 'gram', where we do a deep dive on your Instagram, find some interesting pictures, and ask you for more context of what's going on. Sound good?"

Clint grabs a new napkin and dabs at the sweat beading on his forehead before blowing his nose. "You could probably ask me anything at this point and I wouldn't give a shit. Goddamnit what is this stuff? Rocket fuel? This isn't natural!"

Scott huffs out a desperate sounding laugh and promptly starts hiccuping. "Oh no. God no. What fresh hell is this?"

The archer giggles at Scott, looking more than a little unhinged, and gulps at his water.

"Some people get the hiccups when they encounter really spicy food. Totally normal. I guess it's your lucky day!" Sean explains.

"Fantastic," Scott garbles out around a mouthful of water, prompting a large portion of it to blurt down his chin and soak the front of his shirt dark brown.

A crew member comes forward to give the host an open laptop and Sean navigates to the first picture. "Alright, dream team. Can you give me the lowdown of what's going on here?"

"Um, well, obviously we're in love," Scott says, blotting the water from his t-shirt with a napkin but making the mess worse since it was used and had hot sauce on it.

"Bromance for the ages," Clint agrees.

"What about your wife?" Sean asks, greatly amused.

"Ah, well, she understands. You just can't come between true love like this, you know?"

Scott opens his mouth to add something to Clint's answer but all that erupts is a particularly loud and painful sounding hiccup. He groans in pain and grasps at his chest.

"Doin' okay there, honey bear?" Clint asks, sugary sweet.

"Never better, sugar tits," Scott retorts without missing a beat.

Sean and Clint erupt into laughter and Clint breaks off coughing and groaning.

"God, stop making me laugh. I didn't think laughing could hurt but here we are."

"Alright, how about the next one?" Sean hits a key and the next image appears.

Scott grins and hiccups twice for good measure.

"For real though, we clicked when we first met and we're really good friends. The others call Clint and Nat the danger twins, but they call us the disaster twins. Which, rude. Anyway, in retaliation I said I didn't like any of them anyway and my favorite avenger is Hawkeye so they can all go to hell. So Clint decides to take it a step further and get a t-shirt made with his face on it and honest to God I wore it everywhere for weeks."

"So that's what that smell was," Spider-Man snarks.

Scott points at him threateningly.

Sean laughs and brings up another picture.

Scott smirks while Spider-Man and Clint laugh loudly.

"Oh my God, I remember this!" Clint gasps in between sips of water and obnoxious snorts. "Me, Scott, Spidey, and Bucky got absolutely tanked on tequila one night, and Scott starts spouting off about being the most fearless Avenger and being willing to do anything, so smartass over here," he gestures in Spider-Man's direction with a thumb, "Dares him to show up at Tony's birthday party the following weekend as a stripper and give him a show. Drunk Scott decides that's a worthy challenge and actually does it. We couldn't let the occasion pass without immortalising it so someone, Nat I think, snapped a picture. We had to drape him in one of the tablecloths for modesty sake, by then he wasn't wearing a whole lot."

Sean laughs and slaps the table in mirth. "How did Iron Man take it?"

Clint waves a careless hand in the air and wipes the sweat from his temple, "Ah, nothing much phases Tony. The nineties were a wild time for him. He was a good sport."

"Even tucked a crisp Benjamin in my Iron Man G-string," Scott pipes up with a smug grin, punctuated by a hiccup.

Spider-Man loses composure off camera once more and struggles with controlling his obnoxious snorting. "Oh God, he even had 'I ❤ Iron Man' tattooed on his ass cheek with shaky Sharpie marker."

"I did that myself," Scott boasts proudly.

"And how about this one?" Sean asks, shaking his head and navigating to the next picture and gesturing to it.

"Oooh," Scott commiserates, "That looks like it probably hurt."

"You think?" The archer quips. "I actually can't talk about the specifics of this one, it hasn't been declassified. But the gist of it is that I was on a mission for SHIELD with Nat and things went a little south. I ended up breaking my right arm and badly spraining my left wrist. It was either that or my neck, so I made the right call, but it made being an archer rather difficult for a few weeks for sure."

Sean winces in sympathy, "At least you got some time off though, I guess?"

"Yeah," he nods, "And my loving wife waited on me, hand and foot, and fed me grapes while stroking my face."

"Really?" Scott pipes up, impressed.

"Absolutely not," Clint deadpans. "She called me an idiot for getting hurt and then lobbed the grapes at my forehead for daring to suggest she feed them to me. Said if I wanted a servant I shouldn't have married her." He grins, like the besotted fool he is.

Clint goes for a glass of milk while Scott blows his running nose, both men squirming in discomfort.

"And the last one."

Clint takes one glance at the picture before breaking into a large snort that results in inhaling a large quantity of milk up his nose.

As Clint splutters and milk drips from his nostrils and chin, Scott quips without missing a beat, "You know I've never tried consuming milk that way. Is it good? I'm always up for new experiences."

Clint shoves Scott's shoulder as he mops up with a clean napkin and replies, "Are you kidding? You haven't lived until you've snorted the good white stuff."

Scott's composure cracks with the unexpected comeback and he hangs his head as he giggles.

Sean joins in on the laughter for a moment, but sensing a PR nightmare clarifies for the viewers, "He's totally joking. Hawkeye is not telling you to go snort cocaine. Please don't do that."

Clint sobers up and tosses out his soiled napkin, only a hint of amusement left on his face, "No totally. Please don't do that. I'm joking."

"Back on track," Sean leads, "Any backstory on this particularly soulful looking photo?" Sean gestures at the laptop.

"Oh I know this one," Scott sarcastically leans forward as though to seriously study the photo and caresses his chin with thought. "May I?" he asks Clint.

Clint gestures invitingly and Scott continues, pointing out the book displayed under Clint's knuckles with HILM along the spine. "He was spending a quiet afternoon alone in his private den, reading all about 'Hipsters I'd Like to Murder', HILM, which is sorta like a MILF only with less sex and more murder- so I hear anyway, I'm not really into the murder scene- when he realized the casserole he was baking for Barack Obama for their dinner party was burning-"

The archer snorts loudly again and he shoves Scott, breaking him out of his monologue, "Where do you get this bullshit? I swear to God..."

Scott pretends to look affronted which makes Clint rolls his eyes and turn back to the host.

"That was just some Avengers PR bullshit. Apparently some higher ups thought we came across as too abrasive or something, not that any of us really gave a shit, so we were nudged into sitting for a few photos to 'humanize' us."

"So you weren't in your den reading about hipsters you'd like to murder?" Sean asks disappointedly.

"Shit," Clint barks out a surprised laugh, "I don't read!"

"Yeah, he's basically illiterate," Scott pipes up, pretending to be sympathetic.

"Yes," Clint nods gravely without missing a beat and goes along with the gag, "I am almost entirely illiterate."

Scott grasps Clint's shoulder and says, as though he is delivering news of his death, "The only things he can read are the TV guide and the takeout menu from Souvlaki House down the block."

This surprises another laugh out of Clint and he punches Scott's shoulder. After a moment he looks at Sean seriously and shrugs, "Well I mean he's not exactly wrong. That's pretty much all I read."

They retrieve their eighth wing and Clint eyes his dubiously while Scott ignorantly takes a large bite.

"Isn't this the one that always kills everybody?"

Sean grins devilishly while chewing his bite and Scott stops chewing to look at the archer, alarmed.

"You couldn't have warned me a second earlier?" He complains with his mouth full.

"It's a show with hot wings, man," Clint cringes, holding up his hand to shield himself from the view of the masticated poultry as he starts on his own wing. "We're only on wing eight and they get progressively worse. Surely you knew where this was heading."

"Actually," Scott frowns, choking down the mouthful, "You just told me to get in the-" he hiccups loudly, "car because we're going for wings. This is the strangest restaurant I've ever seen."

Sean dissolves into laughter and clutches the edge of the table.

"What is it with you Avengers and getting one over on each other? Can't you just be straight with each other?"

Clint gives Sean a confused look as though he doesn't understand this strange concept and wipes at the sweat streaming from his forehead.

"And furthermore," Scott continues, as though Sean had never spoken, "These wings are kinda cold and soggy, bro. Things aren't looking the best for your Yelp review."

Clint rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sean replies without missing a beat, "We'll take that up with our chef."

Scott nods, satisfied, and is soundly rattled by an enormous hiccup.

"Being as talented as the both of you are, as we established earlier, I've gotta imagine that being surrounded by a literal god of thunder and enhanced humans with unbelievable strength has got to be surreal. Do you get flak for not being superpowered, or considered weak members of the team at all?"

"Wow, I think I had a stroke through your entire question. Can this hot sauce cause stroke?" Scott chokes out, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be honest, I didn't hear a fuckin' word you said either," Clint confesses, blowing his nose and chugging milk.

Sean rallies and tries again, "Do you ever feel inadequate in comparison to the supers on your team?"

"I mean, sure. It's freaking Captain America," Scott gushes, out of breath, "How can you possibly measure up to that?"

"He's a total fanboy," the archer murmurs out the side of his mouth. "But yeah totally, sometimes. I mean none of them ever say or do anything to belittle us. Well, except Thor. He's a dick and constantly calls us tiny, but he says that to everyone, not just us."

They laugh and the Avengers take a moment to drink more milk.

"But we're human, just like everyone else, and experience self doubt too. It's hard not to feel inadequate sometimes when Spidey's lifting trucks like they're pillows and Thor's shooting lightning bolts from his ass. But at the end of the day we all bring something different to the table and I try to remember that. It's a team effort, not a one man show."

Scott sucks hard on a mouthful of ice and garbles weakly, "Totally what I was gonna say."

"Second last wing, gentlemen!" Sean enthuses, holding up his arms.

Clint and Scott eye each other with trepidation as they pick up their wings.

"Before we proceed I'll explain what we're doing," Sean says, holding up a hand to stop them from eating. "We have here an important test of skill!"

A crew member approaches carrying two small children's bows, one in neon purple and the other in neon green, and two quivers of half a dozen arrows each. Instead of sharp tips they sport suction cups on the end.

"We don't want to accidentally impale anyone today so we have a set with suction cups. Across the room you will see a target."

He points, and a light comes on across the room to illuminate two targets on the wall. They are small and made of thin, cheap plastic.

"Let's see how your famous archery skills match up to our second hottest hot sauce, Hawkeye!"

"Pfft, no problem," he boasts confidently, but glances down at the wing with more than a little worry.

"To even up the competition a little, since Scott represents the every man," he gestures at the targets and a crew member approaches to move the target on the right closer by several feet, "We have given him a handicap."

"Aw, come on," Clint whines.

Scott judges the new distance and deadpans, "I think you're still greatly overestimating my skill with a bow."

"Oh, c'mon, it's not even that far," Sean goads.

Scott quirks his eyebrows, "Clint let me shoot his bow once. I say 'once' because after the first time he swore to never let me near it again."

"How did you do?"

"The arrow went backwards. Backwards," he emphasizes, which causes them both to laugh. "I had one job to do, and that was to make it go forwards. It went backwards. Clint then tried to make his go backwards on purpose to figure out what I'd done and couldn't do it. That's how bad I am at archery." He folds his arms and glares at the bows in Sean's hands.

"Okay, I can see you're not pumped with the bow. How about we give you a little incentive?"

Scott perks up with interest and Clint quirks an eyebrow.

The same crew member comes forward with two pints of vanilla ice cream with spoons sticking out of them.

"Okay, I'm listening," Scott says with a hiccup, now considerably more interested.

"Clint, as the resident expert, you must hit your target three times and it must be bullseye. Scott, as the resident layman, you only need to hit it once and it can be anywhere on the target. Just make it stick. Do that, and you can have an ice cream break before the final round."

They groan and take their bites. Clint's face flushes an alarming shade of red and Scott proceeds to have a chaotic coughing fit punctuated by hiccups.

"This is not right, man. What the hell kind of show are you running here?" The archer asks, fanning himself with a napkin and guzzling some water.

Sean laughs, barely looking affected by the hot sauce, "I would argue a pretty successful one, considering we've had four Avengers on it."

"Three," Scott corrects. "Spider baby isn't an Avenger."

"Not _yet,"_ Spider-Man emphasizes from the sidelines, "And that's by choice. I've already been asked to join the team."

Scott sticks his tongue out in Spider-Man's direction and then sees the opportunity to stick it in his glass of milk while he's at it.

Sean claps his hands together once, "Ready?"

They reluctantly get up to approach the targets. A crew member shows them where to stand and Sean comes forward to give them their bow and arrows.

"I call dibs on purple!" Clint wheezes out and snatches it away from Scott's reaching hand. Scott frowns with a hiccup but picks up the green one along with the arrows. They take their places and nock an arrow.

"First one's a practice shot," Sean graciously allows, standing nearby but out of striking distance.

Scott carefully lines up a shot, closes one eye, and with a mighty hiccup his arms jerk involuntarily upwards and his arrow flies straight at an overhead light. With a comical waggle of the shaft, it firmly adheres to the bulb just out of reach.

Clint doubles over in laughter before he can make his shot and Scott can't help but huff out a few laughs of his own.

"Wow, that'll be tough to beat," Clint snarks.

"Hey, at least it went forward this time. You're improving, Scott!" Sean attempts to encourage.

Clint straightens and nocks his arrow again, sweat pouring off his red face. The tiny plastic children's bow looks absolutely ridiculous in Clint's large hands. He breaths in deeply with his mouth open a few times, attempting to cool down his tongue. He aims, looking totally confident and professional, lets the arrow fly, and it promptly falls apart midair and smacks against the target to fall to the ground.

"My suction cup fell off!" Clint cries foul, "C'mon, man!"

"Look, we didn't have a large budget to work with," Sean says through his laughter, hands raised to appease the archer so he won't shoot him.

Clint eyes the ice cream on the table and shouts in frustration at the ceiling.

Scott tries another shot but on the release it fumbles and falls to the ground near his feet. "Goddamnit!"

Clint determinedly tries again. He takes aim, breathes out, and releases. This one stays together in the air but wobbles. Regardless, it hits the target directly on the line denoting the bullseye. Clint cheers only to start cursing as the shaft falls off, followed by the suction cup popping off the surface and clattering to the floor.

"That counted right?!" Clint aggressively asks Sean while pointing at the target.

"Sorry man," Sean says, shrugging, "It's gotta stick."

Clint inspects his next arrow and tests that the arrow head is firmly attached. "Webhead, c'mere." He waves Spider-Man closer.

Spider-Man enters the frame to stand next to Clint and cocks his head to the side curiously.

"C'mon, hook a brother up. I need that ice cream, man," he holds out the arrow.

Spidey breathes out a laugh and tugs up his sleeve to expose a web shooter. With a quick _thwip_ the suction cup is firmly adhered.

"Hey, no cheating!" Sean chastises with a grin.

"La la la, I can't hear you," Clint snarks, licking the bottom of the suction cup. He lines up his third shot and lets it fly. With a dramatic popping sound it hits the bullseye and quivers, staying in place.

"Yes!" The archer cheers, jumping childishly with his hands in the air.

Scott moans in despair and waits for his next hiccup to pass before shooting his third arrow. It, too, fumbles, and springs to the side almost clipping Sean, who leaps away just in time.

Clint wastes no time and pulls another arrow, holds it out for Spider-Man to reinforce, licks the bottom, and lines up his shot. He squints, pained, as sweat rolls down his face, and pauses to rub his face in the shoulder of his t-shirt to get the sweat out of his eyes. The archer shoots and achieves another bullseye.

"Ha!" Clint shouts, "Take that, Dollar Tree archery set! That ice cream is mine!"

Scott glares at Clint. He rallies and takes a few calming breaths, concentrating on aiming carefully. "Okay, focus, Lang. It's just a stupid toy. You can do this." He shoots his fourth arrow and it actually reaches the edge of the target but only catches the side of the suction cup instead of head on and it bounces away harmlessly. He screams like an angry pterodactyl.

Clint can't help but laugh and has to pause in the middle of his fifth shot. He gets himself together after a moment and nails his third bullseye for the win. He celebrates as though he has won a new car and finishes off with an embarrassing happy dance.

Scott growls and abandons the bow, simply throwing his second last arrow at the target hoping for a lucky shot. It, of course, misses.

Spider-Man makes a noise of empathy and offers to reinforce Scott's last arrow.

"That's a generous offer, Webhead," The Avenger grits out between clenched teeth, "And I hate to break it to you, but at this point I don't think it will make much difference. You can't polish a turd."

Clint and Spidey snort and Scott stares hard at Clint. "I need that ice cream, man. I need it." The intense stare is interrupted by a large hiccup and Scott groans pitifully.

Clint sighs, "Strangelove Formation?"

Scott brightens, "Yes!" He whips a box of Altoids out of his pants pocket and takes out what looks to be doll clothes instead of breath mints.

"Uh, Strangelove?" Sean asks, giving them an odd look.

"Yeah," Scott enthuses, "Dr. Strangelove."

"Do you mean that really old movie where this guy rides on top of a nuclear bomb?" Spider-Man asks, scratching the back of his neck in puzzlement.

"Exactly the one," Clint agrees while Scott fiddles with the doll clothes in his hands and suddenly he is holding a man sized suit. He wriggles into it, pops on his helmet and with an amazed shout from Sean he shrinks down to the size of an ant.

"Why do you guys have to be so extra," Spider-Man laments, "I'm sure Sean would give him the frigging ice cream anyway."

"Oooh, Cap, Spidey said a bad language word!" Clint teases while picking up Ant-Man and situating him on top of Clint's arrow. He passes the tiny hero his own arrow which is comically huge compared to his shrunken body. Clint takes aim, fires his last arrow at Scott's target, and it flies true. With a tiny shout of joy, Ant-Man sticks his own arrow next to Clint's and jumps down, returning to normal size. They high five and Spider-Man shakes his head in exasperation.

Sean picks up the last bottle of hot sauce while the two Avengers gorge themselves on victorious ice cream and begins to vigorously shake it.

"I thought the sauce was already on the wings," Scott says and turns to the crew to say sternly, "You guys had one job to do."

Sean grins wickedly, "This is _The Last Dab_! It's tradition around here to put a little extra on the last wing, but you don't have to! No pressure!"

He puts the bottle down between the Avengers with a decisive click and they eye it dubiously. With a heavy sigh and a resigned glance at one another they put aside the ice cream and take turns doing the dab.

As one, they all take a hurried bite before they can give too much thought to their impending doom. After only a beat, Clint and Scott moan in pain and reach for their milk.

"This kinda reminds me of that mission in Barcelona," Clint chokes out between gulps.

"Barcelona?!" Scott fires back incredulously with a hiccup, "Wasn't Barcelona the one where you got impaled by a decorative sword?"

"Yeah," Clint nods painfully and blows his nose, "Good times. Honestly, I'd kinda rather the sword at this point. This is some kinda unusual punishment." He looks in Spidey's direction, "Do you hate me this much?!"

Spider-Man only snorts in response.

Sean wrangles their attention and finishes off the interview with one last question. "I feel like we've gotten to know you so much better. We've learned you're just like the rest of us in a lot of ways, you share a bromance that will last through all the ages, and that Spidey needs a better pin for his phone."

Spider-Man sighs quietly while Clint and Scott huff a laugh.

"Having said that, there's always a little something else to learn. Is there anything you can tell us about yourselves that we don't already know?"

"Uh," Scott squeezes his eyes shut, looking like he'd rather be just about anywhere else at this moment. "I was born in Florida. I have a sister named Ruth. I can't say anything bad about her because she helps me with Cassie so I have to stay on her good side. I can play the drums. And, uh," he pauses thinking desperately for something else to say. "I dunno. I'm immune to brain freeze."

"You are?!" Clint blurts out, impressed.

"Yep!" Scott confirms proudly. "There isn't a single ice cream cone or smoothie that can get the better of me."

"That's possibly one of the most useless skills I've ever heard of but I'm intrigued regardless."

"And that about sums up Scott Lang, ladies and gentlemen," Spider-Man announces off camera, "Useless but intriguing."

Scott's protests are drowned out by Sean's and Clint's laughter.

"And you, Clint?" Sean leads.

Clint sniffs and wipes his nose. "Uh, Jesus this is so hot I can't think. Uh, I can play the drums too. I-" he drags out the word and shrugs. "I am fluent in English, Italian, ASL, and a bit of Russian from what Nat has taught me."

"That's fascinating," Sean says, "Was learning languages for a mission or does that kind of thing just interest you?"

"Well," the archer answers, "Italian was for a mission. Bonus that my wife thinks it sounds sexy." He waggles his eyebrows and takes a desperate sip of water. "And ASL because I'm deaf."

Sean gives him a surprised look, "I actually had no idea."

Clint shrugs, "It's not something I keep secret, I'm not ashamed, but most people don't seem to really know about it. Or maybe they think I couldn't possibly do the things I do and be disabled at the same time. Those people are what I like to call assholes."

Sean laughs in agreement.

"I had an accident when I was younger that damaged my hearing. I learned sign language at that time. It's part of why I'm such a good marksman. When you lose one sense your others heighten. I found that my sight got sharper and that really contributes to me being a good shot. My hearing eventually improved a little after the accident but I still use hearing aids. Most of the team took up sign language and they all have various levels of proficiency with it. It has proved pretty useful in missions too, so win-win."

"Thanks for sharing with us," Sean says, "I know with the internet being what it is, there will be some people who will try to strike you down about your disability, maybe say you shouldn't be an Avenger. What would you say about that?"

"Man," Clint rants, punctuated by a cough when the spice gets stuck in his throat, and points into a camera, "Fuck ableism. Just because I have a disability doesn't mean you're better than me. I would also like to point out that pretty much every Avenger has something they struggle with. PTSD, anxiety, depression, being an amputee. We're all just people, dudes. Maybe I can't hear as well as you can, but I can still kick your ass." He wipes his forehead with the napkin a final time and decisively throws it down on the table.

"And that's a wrap! You did it! You got through ten of the hottest wings you'll ever eat and lived to tell about it." Sean swivels on his stool and starts pointing at cameras, "This camera, this camera, or this camera! Let the people know what you have going on in your life!"

"Fuck!" Clint exclaims, mind going blank in the face of so much spice. "I don't even remember who I am right now!" He takes a sip of milk and hangs his head in exhaustion. "Uh, uh," he looks up at a camera and swallows painfully, "Charity. I support it. Uh, Dogs for the Deaf. It rescues shelter dogs and trains them to be companions for people with hearing loss and autism. Please donate and help improve the lives of both humans and dogs in need."

Scott grunts and pulls his tongue out of the glass of milk with great regret. "What was my charity again?" He hiccups painfully and moans.

"BBBS," Clint prompts, muffled from where he is lying on the table face down in a gesture of ultimate defeat.

"Right," Scott takes a deep breath to fortify himself, which is interrupted part way through by a hiccup, and continues, "Big Brothers Big Sisters. They do great work with kids and provided someone my daughter could talk to while I was incarcerated and couldn't be there for her. Please consider donating."

Sean grins widely and begins clapping, prompting the entire crew to join him in a round of applause for the suffering Avengers.

"I've never felt so much regret for laughing at you and calling you a pussy," Clint admits painfully to Spider-Man.

Spider-Man throws his head back and laughs while Clint and Scott pose for a picture with Sean.

* * *

Comments

**Aprendiz_De_Satan497**

Do you think when Cassie eventually starts dating, Ant-Man will give them the shovel talk as Gi-Ant-Man?

**Emusclarinet**

I don't think I've ever seen anybody sweat so much. Is Clint okay?

**TheBurntestToast**

No no go back I want to hear about the pillow

**David123456789**

I love how Scott is so clueless. Mood.

**Crazyinfj**

Omg rip Spidey, that had to hurt

**Catsvx**

everything's a WHAT if you're brave enough?!

**Kikistimi**

I wanna hear them play the drums! And Clint can sing?! He and Spidey should do a duet!

**Stephano_The_Swords_Women**

i cringed so hard, i HATE hiccups so much!

**Somedayyyy**

Anyone else interested in knowing what Spidey's text messages said?

**Lokissoulmate666**

Fuck ableism!

**BrightShadow**

That poor table has been getting an awful beating. isn't that three dents from Avengers now?

**Beccatt**

Wow I can't believe he actually got those shitty arrows to stick. Our boy's got some skills!

**Iread78**

They're such dads

**DorothyG**

i love that clint has a dog! I wonder if the other avengers have pets too

**CyberWolfWrites**

wow, was not expecting to hear about antman wearing an iron man gstring today

**TotallyNotDeadpool**

Does Ant-Man have to see a doctor if he stays big longer than 4 hours? Asking for a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact:  
> In Spider-Man for PS4, if you unlock the underwear suit and put Peter in it and zoom in, he has exactly three chest hairs. Hahaha!
> 
> If you have read my other fics in this series you may notice I used the names of commenters as random users. If I have used your name and this bothers you, please let me know and I will happily change it.
> 
> If you liked my story, please consider dropping me a line to let me know you enjoyed yourself!


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